LOCAL HEROES: A weekly column on musicians and happenings in the Chicago area music scene.

Witty Naomi Ashley finds her serious side in sincere love songs

April 21, 2006|By Andy Downing

In music, love is depicted in wildly varying forms, from cherubs fluttering about with bows drawn ("Cupid") and astral rays ("You Are the Sunshine of My Life") to a stalker's stealth ("Every Breath You Take"). But in Naomi Ashley's worldview, romance takes on a slightly comic twist.

During an early-April performance at Davenport's, she sings an ode to her perfect man--a leg-less, arm-less, deaf and mute "torso of love." Another song finds her employing a crowbar and binoculars to stalk a man, defending her actions with the sly chorus "Some people say that I'm crazy, but I say that I'm crazy in love."

"At the time when I was writing those songs I was doing a lot of improv, so my head was there," says Ashley, who moved to Chicago 10 years ago to pursue an acting career. "But in a way it was safe to make people laugh. You can hear people enjoying the music so there's this instant satisfaction. With the serious stuff you're taking your chances. [The audience] is out there in the dark, so you just have to be comfortable with what you're doing."

The set at Davenport's is split fairly equally between moments of levity and Ashley's newfound "serious side," which reveals itself in tunes about dream-filled train rides and a handful of--believe it or not--sincere love songs. The performance, augmented by the guitar-work of husband and collaborator Ben Benedict, takes on the feel of an old-time variety show, veering between witty stage banter, introspective tunes and those earlier gut busters. It's the type of balancing act that Ashley has been working toward since she moved her act from comedy clubs to the Uptown Poetry Slam at the Green Mill.

"There are people [who] wish I would do the funny stuff and that's it. And that does worry me," says Ashley. "For awhile there when we had the band [Naomi Ashley and County Fair] we weren't playing the funny songs, but that wasn't right either. It's all a part of me."

What audiences may not see, at least for the time being, are a series of characters Ashley created specifically for comedic venues, including Tye Casio and Bambi Glittersparkle, an "anxious" girl who tries to impress audiences with a sincere version of Lionel Richie's "Hello"--played on a trombone.

As Ashley notes, "Once you do something like that it's hard to go back."

Instead, she's cultivating that middle ground, aspiring to songwriters such as Lyle Lovett and John Prine who can crack you up with one song and break your heart with the next.

"[Ashley] certainly hasn't lost her sense of humor by any means," says Benedict, who met the singer at an anti-George W. Bush inauguration party in January 2001. "Part of [the change] comes from finding comfort in herself and not having to put up some kind of a front and make fun of everything."

But jokes have always come easiest for Ashley, who has been writing "funny little songs" for as long as she can remember. Growing up on a farm outside of Sioux City, Iowa, the singer received her earliest musical tutorials via her father's record collection, absorbing folksy melodies from the likes of the Kingston Trio and Peter, Paul and Mary. She purchased her first guitar as a 17-year-old and has been putting her thoughts--comic and otherwise--to music ever since.

"I would learn two chords and write a song. Then learn two more chords and write another song," says Ashley. "I learned the guitar just so I would have an outlet for my writing."